"Senora." The controlled anger was back in his voice. "What did your stepfather tell you?"
She shook her head. She couldn't talk. She couldn't even raise her head. She felt sick with shame.
"Talk to me!" he thundered.
Too wrapped up in her own misery to even be startled by his shout, Lorilla merely complied. "My stepfather told me there was a rich man, an older man, who had seen me somewhere in St. Louis. He told me…" a quiet sob escaped her numbed lips, and she covered her mouth to stop it. When she could breathe normally again, she continued dully. "He told me the man…you, admired me so much that you wanted to marry me."
Gabe cursed. "Are you trying to tell me that you received none of the five thousand dollars? That your stepfather sold you?"
A flicker of the anger which had all but dissolved in the wake of her shame and shock resurfaced. She met his gaze and lifted her chin. "That shocks you? You, who purchased me."
An odd look crossed his face, but he only waved his hand. "Not the same thing."
Lorilla fumed at his careless dismissal of what he'd done. She drew in courage with a deep breath and stood, praying her shaky legs would hold her up. "It is exactly the same thing."
She heard the woman at the church's words in her head. A son to carry on the Beltran name. All he wanted was a child. She blinked back tears. She refused to take that last step toward complete humiliation.
"Now, sir, since you were so considerate as to leave me inviolate last night," her face flamed, but she continued, "in the eyes of the church, we are not married. You may begin proceedings for an annulment."
"Annulment?" His brows rose.
"Certainly. You were duped. You have the right to turn me out." Lorilla turned toward the door. "I am sure you will want to continue your search for a brood mare to fulfill your purpose."
He flinched. "That's crude."
"Oh? How would you describe it?"
"What will you do?" His voice changed, softened. He sounded concerned.
Lorilla forced herself not to hear it. It would not do to become maudlin over a man or a dream that was out of her reach.
"Go home, I suppose." She heard the bitter note in her voice, and the doubt. If Ray had gone to such trouble to get rid of her, would she be able to go back? She did miss her stepbrothers--well, Jeremy anyway. Her youngest stepbrother was not yet old enough to be totally under the influence of his father.
Lorilla furtively wiped her eyes and turned. "Senor Beltran, I am truly sorry for what my stepfather did. I assure you I had no idea. I should have been suspicious when he seemed so happy for me. It was not like him. I will leave straight-away."
Gabe laughed harshly.
Lorilla had already come to despise that bitter laugh.
"This is not St. Louis, Rilla."
She cringed at his sarcasm combined with his pet name for her.
"Nor is it Rome," he continued. "The wagon train will not leave for several weeks. Besides, a petition for annulment must be approved by the Pope. You may remain here."
Her heart pounded. Was he being kind or merely practical? She studied his face, but even his eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts. "Thank you. That is very kind of you. I will have Josepha move my things."
"That…" he stepped toward her, "won't be necessary. You may stay in your dressing room and use the sitting room as you like. I'm rarely there anyway."
She nodded, then turned and reached for the doorknob. His large hand stopped hers. Lorilla closed her eyes. His warm strength drew her like a fire. She would never forget the safe, delicious comfort of his body wrapped protectively around her in bed. Nor his large, warm hands or his fierce but gentle kiss. She could have learned to like being cared for.
"Lorilla? Why were you not suspicious of your stepfather's story of a man who loved you from afar, if being kind to you was so unlike him?"
Without raising her head or opening her eyes, and without really thinking about the consequences, Lorilla answered him. "I just wanted so badly for it to be true."
Gabriel recoiled, jerking his hand from hers as if it were hot.
She grimaced as she realized what she had said. Now she had plumbed the depths of humiliation, admitting how much she had wanted someone to care for her. She pulled open the door.
"Like Cinderella?"
His voice, soft now and gentle, stopped her. She stared at him in shock.
He nodded briefly and the smallest of smiles touched his lips. "You were hoping for Prince Charming to take you away to live happily ever after?"
With heat crawling up her face, Lorilla straightened to her full height. As the last of her dreams vanished, she steeled herself to look right at him and not blink. "That's right. It's too bad I did not find him."
She was able to exit the room and make it almost all the way up the stairs before the first tear rolled down her cheek.
h
CHAPTER SIX
Lorilla fell upon the day bed in her dressing room and gave way to tears for a few moments. She was so tired. Her miserable journey, which she had tried to make into an adventure, had delivered her to a part of the country that might as well be a foreign land. Plus, she had stored up all sorts of fantasies on the long trip here. Fantasies of marriage, of children, of a home of her own where she would belong. Now she was both displaced, and alone.
Lorilla sat up and wiped her eyes. Crying would benefit her nothing. She had learned a long time ago that all she gained was a red nose and puffy eyes and a pile of neglected chores. Ray had never allowed her stepbrothers to help her with household chores. He believed men should not do women's work.
Now Gabriel was going to send her back to him. She couldn't blame him. He'd been cheated out of the wife he'd purchased. But she was terrified of returning to the house of the man who had sold her. Ray would be furious with her for failing, and afraid that Gabriel would want his five thousand dollars back.
Five thousand dollars. Lorilla tried to envision it as she washed her face. Ray had never seen that much money in his life. No wonder he'd been anxious to get rid of her. He was a rich man, now. If she went back there, he could kill her, or make her wish she was dead.
A sick fear sat like an anvil on her chest. Where would she go? There was no place on earth for a woman cast out. Lorilla remembered after her father died, lying awake at night, her stomach gnawing with hunger as she listened to her mother cry.
Marrying Ray Stegall had stopped her mother's crying, but the terrifying memories had never gone away. Her mother was indebted to Ray, as he so often pointed out, for giving her and her daughter a home. He never let her forget how lucky she was to have him, and he never let Lorilla forget that she was excess baggage.
As she dried her face, Gabriel's words echoed in her ears. You were hoping for a Prince Charming? Tossing the cloth down, Lorilla crossed the room to the windows. She pulled aside the drapes and looked out across the fields that surrounded Gabriel's rancho. Yes, she'd been looking for a Prince Charming, someone who wanted her. It was why she'd believed Ray's lies.
She pressed her palm against her chest, where the pain was centered, and blinked as tears filled her eyes again. How had Ray known the secret of her deepest heart?
It didn't matter. She'd jumped at the chance, believing that at the end of her journey was a kind man who wanted nothing more than to care for her.
Instead she was married to a man who hated her for deceiving him, who slept in his study rather than be near her, and who would send her away at the first opportunity.
A knock sounded, startling her. As she turned from the window and furtively wiped her damp eyes, Josepha entered, burdened again by a huge tray. "Senora, I prepare some soup. After the long journey, and the excitement, the soup will settle your stomach."
"Thank you, Josepha."
Setting down the tray, Josepha approached her, clucking her disapproval. "You must have some new clothes. We must send for fabric immediately. As soon as the holidays are over."
"Oh,
Josepha. I almost forgot. Today is Christmas Day."
"Si, Senora. A day of rest after the festivities of the past week."
"Christmas Day, a day of rest? But what about Mass, and presents, and…"
Lorilla realized she sounded like a child. Obviously the Mexican people celebrated Christmas differently. Lorilla had always loved making presents for her stepbrothers when they were small. She felt a stab of homesickness. "So, are the celebrations over?"
Josepha pulled her over to the small table and chair. "You sit and eat. You are too skinny. Christmas celebrations were over last night, Christmas Eve, but you and the Senor were otherwise occupied, no?"
Lorilla ducked her head, too ashamed and embarrassed to even look at the little housekeeper.
"Ah, Senora Lorilla, is not to be shy. The marriage, she is strange custom. Almost everyone knows what marriage is about, but no one talk. It is the secret that is no secret. Now you eat your soup and take a siesta, and I will be about my business."
"Josepha?" Lorilla called, just as Josepha was leaving the room. "Would you…would you mind sitting with me, please?"
Josepha peered closely at her. Realizing her eyes must still be red and puffy from crying, Lorilla quickly looked down at the soupspoon she held.
"Senora Lorilla, everything is good, no?"
Lorilla shook her head and blinked back tears. "No, Josepha. I don't think anything is good." She took a deep breath. "My mother died when I was ten. I'm not sure I know everything I should. Gabriel is very unhappy with me, and I don't understand why."
Josepha patted her hand comfortingly. "Your mother die when you are ten years? But someone, an aunt, a friend, she explain women's ways to you?"
Lorilla shook her head.
"So when your woman's time come?"
Lorilla's mouth curved upward in a wan smile. "I thought I was dying. I ran to my stepfather, but he just turned beet red and gave me some rags. He told me to talk to the nuns."
"And this you did?"
"Yes, but Sister Mary John was very vague. It was quite confusing. She talked about flowers and gardens."
Josepha laughed. "Ah, poor thing."
"I figured out most of it."
"So no one told you about the marriage? Well, sometimes the wedding night, it is not pleasant for the bride. You are no hurt? Perhaps you bleed a bit?"
"No, no." Lorilla's face flamed. "It didn't hurt at all, but…"
"Senora?"
Lorilla looked at Josepha. "You see, Gabriel expected me to be…to have…" she sighed and dropped her gaze to the soup bowl. "To be more experienced."
"Ah."
"He thought I knew about the money. He thought I was a widow who had lost a child. It angered him when he found I was a…" her voice trailed away.
Josepha stared at her. "Money?"
"Senor Beltran paid my stepfather five thousand dollars for me."
"Madre de Dios. That is what the Patron had in mind? I did wonder. So, he want the son, but not the wife."
Lorilla nodded miserably. "I think you've hit the nail on its head, Josepha. He doesn't want me."
"What about you, Lorilla? What do you want?"
Shrugging her shoulders, Lorilla didn't answer. What did she want? Someone to love her like her father had loved her mother? A child, a family of her own? A return of the incredible rush of feelings Gabriel had coaxed from her? "He's sending me away."
"Sending . . . Madre de Dios!" Josepha let loose a string of words that made absolutely no sense to Lorilla. While Josepha ranted, she paced, stopping occasionally to gesture toward Lorilla. Finally she ran out of steam, and sank back down on the chair.
"Josepha, what…?"
"Ah, est nada, Senora Lorilla. Is just men. They can be so hard in the head. I raise Gabriel after his mother die in childbirth when he is small. The old Patron, he was heartbroken, but would he show it? Would he comfort his young son? No. What the young Gabriel learn from his father is to treat illness and death as the enemy and to react in anger. Men do not view the world in the same way as women. I try to comfort the small Gabriel, but he is as stiff and determined not to show feelings as his father. Only when he is asleep does he let down his guard. Many mornings, I would find the pillow wet from his tears." She shook her finger at Lorilla. "This is a secret, Senora Lorilla. The Patron would not appreciate me telling you of his childhood sadness --"
"Well, maybe you shouldn't," Lorilla started, but Josepha just kept talking.
"He will not appreciate that you know his deep secrets. But Gabriel is like a son to me and I would have him happy."
"He was happy with Elena, wasn't he? Was she very beautiful?"
Josepha's eyes sparkled. "Si, Elena is beautiful, but delicate. She is raised like Mexican royalty, groomed from birth to be a perfect wife. She never run and play like other children. So her health was never good."
"And Gabriel? He loved her?"
"Elena and Gabriel were betrothed from birth. She is his chosen bride."
Lorilla nodded, ignoring the sliver of pain that cut her heart at Josepha's words. "Tell me what happened, Josepha."
Josepha looked up, and Lorilla saw that her eyes were damp with tears.
"Oh, Josepha, I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad. Please forgive me."
"No, no. I loved Elena. But death is a part of life. That is only natural. She come here when she is not much more than a child nor is Gabriel. I believe, as his wife, you have a right to know what happened. It is certain that you will not find out from that one."
"Josepha, I'm not really Gabriel's wife. I shouldn't hear this."
Josepha went on as if she hadn't heard. "Gabriel, he blame himself. He is called to travel to Texas with the governor. It is at least six weeks before Elena's time. Everyone was certain there would be no problem. He is gone two weeks." Josepha shook her head and a tear trickled down her weathered cheek. "Elena begin to bleed. She went into labor. It is no one's fault. These things, they happen with babies. We send a rider immediately to fetch the Patron, but by the time he return, it is too late. The boy is born dead, and Elena…we could not stop the bleeding." Josepha shrugged eloquently, then crossed herself and kissed her fingers. She muttered some words in Spanish.
Lorilla blinked back tears as she reached to cover Josepha's gnarled fingers with her own. "I am so sorry, Josepha. That is so sad."
"Si. It is sad. Gabriel blamed himself."
"But what could he have done?"
"Nothing, my child. Nothing. But he will not believe that. He think he deserve to suffer. I was muy surprise when he told me he had sent for you. I believed he would never marry again."
"I think he believed that, too."
"You said he does not want you? He is sending you away?"
Lorilla nodded. "After he…" she paused, embarrassed. “After he found that I was not experienced, he stormed out of the house in a rage. I tried to talk with him this morning, but he is so angry. He believes I took his money. Josepha, you must believe me. I had no idea what my stepfather did."
Josepha looked confused.
"My stepfather told Gabriel I was a widow whose child had died. He told me a very different story."
"What did your stepfather tell you?"
Lorilla hung her head. "He told me Gabriel Beltran had fallen in love with me and wanted to marry me." The ache inside her intensified as she voiced the words.
"Your stepfather, he sound like a bad man."
"He is. But that does not excuse me. I know him. It was stupid of me to believe him. I should have realized that Ray would never go out of his way to give me something I wanted so badly."
"Something you wanted?"
Lorilla squeezed her eyes shut and covered them with her hand. "Yes. A home. A family. A husband who…"
"Who love you?" Josepha finished quietly.
Lorilla nodded miserably. "I'm afraid that on the long trip out here, I passed the hours daydreaming of my new life and my new husband. Only…only I thought from Ray's desc
ription that Gabriel Beltran would be old. I had no idea he would turn out to be so…so vital."
Josepha chuckled. "Look at you. You turn pink when you speak of him. I think you will have your daydream. You may have to work for it, but I believe it will come."
"But how? He still loves Elena, and he is furious that I am not experienced…"
"But surely, since last night you are no longer a maiden. You could possibly even be enceinte."
Lorilla's face flamed anew. She shook her head. "I'm not positive, Josepha, but when Gabriel realized, I mean…"
"Ah," Josepha breathed. "You feel no pain? You notice no blood?"
Lorilla shook her head again. "I think Gabriel stopped, before…"
"Ah." Josepha chuckled sadly. "My sad, stubborn boy. Now you listen to me, young lady. Gabriel cannot just send you away. The entire town is witness to your marriage. Gabriel will not abandon his vows. That is one thing I know about him. He honors his word. You have ruined his plans, but perhaps the plans they deserve ruining. Si, my boy's plans must change."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you are now his wife. You are Senora Beltran. And you owe your husband a child. It is, after all, what he requires."
There was something in Josepha's voice. Lorilla looked at her suspiciously. "Josepha. What are you talking about?"
Josepha smiled wickedly. "It is a good thing you confide in me. Together, we may be able to make Gabriel forget what he wants and give him what he needs."
Lorilla was almost afraid to ask. "And what does he need?"
Josepha laughed. "Love, my child. Love."
Lorilla stared at the older woman in shock.
"Now the first thing we must do is get rid of that old lady's nightgown and find something suitable for a bride."
h
CHAPTER SEVEN
For the next few weeks, Lorilla barely saw Gabriel at all, except at dinner. Following Josepha's advice she slept in the huge bed in Gabriel's bedroom, but he continued to sleep elsewhere, so she went to sleep alone and awoke alone.
The Christmas Treasure Page 5
